what Adeline had been. In replacing the portrait, he lifted up some loose papers, and it chanced that the lock of Lady Hamlet Vernon's hair, which he had kept (and never since looked at) on the night when she had been overturned at his door, dropped from the paper. He could not but admire it; its glossy richness--its hue of gold shining through the depth of its darkness: it was certainly very beautiful, and he sighed as he laid it down. "What if, indeed, her words should be true, and how can they be _true_ unless in one sense--in that of Adeline's loving another? It must, it must be so!" and this fatal conviction broke down once more all the fabric of happiness which a moment before he had erected: and in this revived frenzy of feeling he passed the night. It was broad daylight ere he could bring himself to seek repose, nor did he then till worn-out nature sunk in forgetfulness and sleep. When he awoke the next day--for morning was far advanced--it was like one awaking from the delirium of fever. He felt exhausted, spent, as though a long illness had shaken his being--so much will a few hours of mental agitation unnerve the strongest frame. The more he tried to collect his thoughts and bring them to a final result, the less did he find himself capable of the effort; the energies of his mind seemed paralyzed; he appeared to himself to be under the influence of some spell which impelled all his actions in an opposite direction to his wishes, as in paralytic affections, the limb ever moves in a contrary motion to that which the sufferer would have it. He was perplexed, amazed, and saw no clue to guide him through the labyrinth. The object of all his wishes--she to whom all his views and plans had had reference from the moment he could feel at all--now appeared to have been almost within reach of his attainment, and yet, by some inimical power, was placed at a greater and more uncertain distance than she had ever been. Lord Albert was not a weak character: but who is not weak, while they admit passion, and not principle, to guide their conduct. At length, after having run over the subjects of his last night's perturbed reflections, the decision to which he came was one, that feeling alone, unaided by moral and religious principle, was likely to conduct him to; and he determined to pursue a middle course, without making known his suspicions. He resolved to miss no opportunity of observation, till he should either have his fears dispelled or confirmed concerning Mr. Foley. He argued, that to speak openly to Lady Adeline, would _not_ be to know the truth. Perhaps she would not break from her engagement, from a motive of delicacy as a woman, however much she might wish to do so; and it was left for him to free her from a chain which was no longer voluntarily worn.